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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28593126">Inside of Your Spell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyFucker007/pseuds/SkyFucker007'>SkyFucker007</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cunnilingus, F/F, How Do I Tag, I am but a simple lesbian, I want both of them to ruin my life, Mindfuck, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Unknowable pleasure, Vaginal Fingering, helanie rights, petition for Helen to stab me with her sharp hands, petition for Melanie to step on me</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:48:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,355</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28593126</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyFucker007/pseuds/SkyFucker007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She can feel Helen smirk, the information passing between them like Helen is carving the information into every atom of her being.</p><p>If Melanie had the capacity to do anything but sob in needy ecstasy right now, she might be embarrassed at just how quickly Helen is able to take her apart.<br/></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Melanie King/Helen Richardson, Melanie King/The Spiral</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Inside of Your Spell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A tongue, hot and impossibly long, traces a path up her thigh and then teasingly over her stomach. Just out of reach of where she needs it the most.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Helen,” she tries to reprimand, but it comes out as more of a plea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wherever that long tongue touches, she can feel her nerves light up in pleasure or heat. She can only imagine what it would feel like against her folds, lapping and stretching and filling her inexorably.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen grins up at her, a sharp expression with too many teeth - smile stretching too far across her face. And then she lathes her tongue over Melanie’s cunt, and Melanie has to find something to grab onto. It turns out, that something is Helen’s shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen hums in pleasure when her fingernails bite in, and Melanie swears she can feel the vibration shake into her bones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tip of that impossibly long tongue prods at her for a moment, Helen’s eyes half lidded as they stare up at the way Melanie’s gasping for breath and trying not to take matters into her own hands and shove herself onto Helen’s tongue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen retracts it, drawing it across her folds in little kitten-licks instead, seeming to revel in the taste of how badly Melanie wants this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Melanie’s mouth falls open and her eyes fall shut, and finally - </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally </span>
  </em>
  <span>that tongue begins to fill her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The aching stretch of it is completely ripped away by the way she can feel her entire body filling with burning, slick pleasure. Helen’s tongue is rough, though not enough to be painful, and Melanie’s certainly wet enough she has nothing to worry about.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sharp fingers are planted on either side of Melanie’s thighs, curling around the backs of them and nudging Melanie’s hips forward minutely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can’t tell if she’s the one who shifts forward further onto Helen’s tongue or if the world shifts around her, but the sentiment is the same.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She makes a sound that’s, quite frankly, really embarrassing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There doesn’t seem to be an end to the tongue in sight, and she swears this is the most she’s ever had inside her at once. She nearly loses her grip on Helen’s shoulders when she’s finally stopped, taking the moment to breathe. Helen curls her tongue, then, sudden and deep, and Melanie can’t tell exactly how far it goes but she does know that it’s the most ethereal, otherworldly pleasure she’s ever felt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It feels like being whole, being full in a satisfied way that nothing ever has before. It feels like drinking a cup of tea after being half frozen on a winter’s day, the heat warming up her insides until she’s sure she’s going to melt. It feels holy, in a filthy sort of way that makes her shiver with unrestrained lust.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe she is melting - she can’t tell anymore, with the way she’s slumped against Helen and her mouth hangs open in a moan as Helen begins to </span>
  <em>
    <span>move.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen’s tongue flicks so deep inside of her she’s sure she’s going to lose her mind just from that, and by the time Helen’s lip presses to her clit she’s utterly overwhelmed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s like being electrocuted, if the pain was replaced by a pleasure so complete she could dive in and </span>
  <em>
    <span>drown. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She thinks she’s shaking, now, grinding down against that writhing impossible tongue, but it’s impossible to tell with the way her mind fills with static and the world shakes apart around her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can feel Helen smirk, the information passing between them like Helen is carving the information into every atom of her being.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Melanie had the capacity to do anything sob in needy ecstasy right now, she might be embarrassed at just how quickly Helen is able to take her apart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Melanie’s head falls back into the unknowable walls of those twisted hallways, mouth falling open in a scream. She can feel every fiber of her being shaken, like it’s trying to tear apart at the seams, as she comes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pleasure spirals and reverberates through her, a distorted echo that leaves her blind and deaf to anything but the aching fulfillment of finally being complete. It’s less like an orgasm and more like an epiphany, pleasure shooting through her so completely she can’t tell where she ends and Helen begins.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s overwhelming in the best possible sense, the pleasure-pain-pleasure of coming harder than she ever has in her life rippling through her like an earthquake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It could have been days or weeks before she started to come back to herself, though she only did so when that aching completion was replaced by Helen drawing her tongue back into her mouth. The hollow emptiness made her feel so utterly cold, and despite the way her vision still swam and the world was muffled by the ringing in her ears she could feel her hips pitch forward. Every fiber of her ached to know that unknowable pleasure again, and the sound that tore itself from her throat was almost wounded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aww, patience love,” Helen cooed at her, cupping Melanie’s chin with a too-sharp hand and tilting it until her eyes met those swirling pools of neon color.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wonder, would you go mad for it?” Helen ponders, tilting her head and grinning in a particularly wolfish and cruel way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>shut up, just fuck me,” Melanie panted, leaning forward with a bitten off whine in an attempt to kiss Helen. Sharp fingers pressed to her throat stop her just short.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen’s laughter echoes through the corridors, and Melanie swears it’s more colors than it is sounds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she kisses Melanie again, it tastes like tv static and the aching feeling of longing for an experience she’s never had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can’t get enough, just the press of those inhuman lips is enough to get her to part her own in a breathless moan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen’s fingers find their way into her mouth, somehow, and she’s beyond it. She curls her tongue around those too-long digits, an though they’re still utterly wrong they’re not sharp anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can feel a pair of lips trace a teasing path down her throat to rest in the spot just above her collarbone, teasing lightly over the area before biting down. A jolt goes through her like she’s stuck a fork in an outlet, freezing and burning and lighting her up to her core. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An identical pair of lips trace down the back of her neck and she can feel a grin press against her shoulder, more tingling emotion than sensation. She has no idea how Helen does that, but, as Helen puts it - lies can be anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hands take each of her own, fingers lacing together and pushing them against the wall next to her sides. She writhes in the embrace, the catharsis of being completely and utterly restrained letting her release all the pulsing anger the slaughter has left behind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s not entirely sure when the pair of hands gripping her legs got there, but they’re holding them on either side of Helen’s too-long waist as she pins her firmly to the walls of her corridors. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Melanie’s not honestly sure the place they are can even be described as corridors anymore - not really - the entire place seems to change second to second and the walls don’t feel entirely solid behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Melanie’s long since lost her trousers, but when a too-sharp hand runs up her side and splits her shirt and bra cleanly from her side she can hardly bring herself to care. She thinks she might, if she weren’t so drunk on the way Helen’s looking at her like she wants to eat her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t think she would mind being devoured here, driven out of her mind by Helen in the aching, maddening pleasure that seems like second nature to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then she doesn’t think much at all, because the pair of lips merge and are kissing a messy, biting path down her chest now. Her entire body jerks as Helen sucks a bruise into the underside of her breast,  and she hisses and curls her fingers into Helen’s harder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want my tongue, again?” Helen asks as the approximation of herself sinks to its knees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s let Melanie’s hands go, and, in a trance, Melanie traces one down to curl into Helen’s hair. It’s dark, spiraling, inhumanly soft. She could drown in it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She considers this for a moment, and as tempting as it is when Helen snakes a tongue up her inner thigh and draws it over the palace she’s already dripping with want, she has other plans. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come here,” she tells Helen, taking a hand that fuzzes around the edges and using it to pull Helen into a standing position. Helen grins at her for a whole second before they’ve spun around and now Helen is the one who’s pinned against the walls of the corridors. Helen’s grin drops from her face and a flash of dark, unconcealed </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>replaces it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s almost a blush that passes across her cheeks, if a blush were a technicolor flash of nonsense.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Melanie sinks her fingernails into the hallway behind Helen, and Helen’s eyes flutter shut and her lips part in a static-filled moan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She presses into her, close to her - impossibly close. The inhuman, ever-shifting nonsense that doesn’t feel a thing like it looks turns her on far more than she’d ever admit. Although, her body’s kind of doing the admitting for her, at this point.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen giggles, a sound like the rushing of wind, even as she breathlessly draws Melanie in for another kiss. Melanie practically melts into her lips, managing to pry herself away before she’s too far gone. She has plans, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grips Helen’s waist, hard, and spins them around and shoves her into the opposite wall of the corridor. It doesn’t take much effort - the corridors aren’t exactly contained by sensible things like time and space and gravity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen makes a sound somewhere between a whimper and a cd skipping, and Melanie catches it between her lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Helen gasps out, and the sound is far away like it’s distant but the volume has been turned up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Melanie’s hands slide up Helen’s thighs, and she tugs down something that could passably be considered a skirt. She wastes no time in pushing her fingers into Helen, gripping Helen’s hip with her other hand and holding her steady so she can’t buck at the sudden pressure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her fingers curl and Helen’s entire body judders as her eyes roll back, edges ceasing to exist for a moment. It’s like she’s trying to press her very existence closer to Melanie, and it’s quite frankly the hottest thing Melanie’s ever felt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>Helen, a twinge deep within herself like she’s experiencing the pleasure she’s giving the distortion as well. She curls her fingers again, hard and deep, and she can’t tell which of them cries out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen’s not knowable - not really - but that doesn’t seem to stop the way she’s shaking apart at Melanie’s fingertips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s not quite so sensible anymore, the human figure splitting and arching and curling and distorting itself, shifting by the moment. A few layers of disguise fall away - as much as can be said for a being whose very existence is dependent on lies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen’s almost-hips buck into the contact, and Melanie laughs and presses another finger into her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good girl,” she practically growls, as she crowds Helen further against her hallway. She bites down on her neck as she curls her fingers in her this time, and her thumb finds her clit as she makes slow and deliberate circles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen fractures at the praise, like her body is trying to split apart into a million fractaling shapes, and a sound tears itself from her almost-mouth and bounces around them in the hallway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Melanie can feel her own toes curl at the aching pleasure that’s echoing off of Helen, pulsing through her corridors themselves, and it’s a physical struggle to keep her fingers going at any sort of rhythm or consistent pace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whether or not she succeeds is irrelevant, it turns out, because with a few more flicks Helen is coming with a choked mewl that sounds like it’s been run through five layers of distortion. Melanie can feel the reality of this place - as unstable and unbalanced as it may be - collapse on itself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can feel her body unmake and try to rewrite itself into existence once again as Helen clenches around her hand, impossibly hot. A feeling akin to an itch spreads up her arm, tingling through her veins and into her stomach, and she doubles over with a cry of her own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She thinks she comes again - it’s impossible to tell in the discombobulated jumble of truth and lies that swirl through this place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helen’s entire being shudders, and her eyes might open. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hallways do become more knowable, eventually - they must. Time is hard, in this place, though, and Melanie can’t tell how long they stay curled into each other like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Long enough that her legs feel like jello when she tries to walk on them, at least. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She manages to stumble down a corridor to the doorway Helen promised her, and if she wasn’t so wrecked right now she might have half a mind to worry about that being a lie. As it is, she doesn’t really care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She steps through the threshold and immediately groans at the oddly sensible surroundings. The familiarity of the corridors should probably alarm her more than it did, but she can’t bring herself to care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not when too-large, too-wrong hands wrap around her waist and Helen practically scoops her up and carries her over to her bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s dark in her flat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s pretty sure it had been day when she first entered the tunnels. But… it doesn’t really matter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time is hard. Especially when she has more pressing matters on her hands, like cuddling with the distortion while Helen’s too-sharp fingers trace patterns over the marks left on her skin.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These two need more content and I decided to take matters into my own hands let’s go lesbians</p></blockquote></div></div>
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